Lonely I strayed by the banks of a river,
Watching the sunbeams as evening drew nigh,
All alone as I rambled I spied a fair damsel,
Weeping and wailing with many a sigh.

She was weeping for one who is now lying lonely,
Mourning for one whom no mortal could save,
As the dark rolling waters flow sadly above him,
As onward they swirl over young Jimmy's grave.

"Oh, Jimmy!" she cries, "Won't you come to my arms,
And give me fond kisses like the ones you once gave?
Oh my dearest, my darling, my lost Jimmy Whalen,
Come to me, Jimmy; rise up from your grave."

And then there appeared from the banks of the river
A vision of beauty as bright as the sun,
With robes of red crimson encircling around him,
And unto this fair maid to speak he begun.

"Oh why have you called me from the realms of glory,
All back to this cold world we'll soon have to part?"
"Oh, to have you embrace me once more in your arms, love.
Come to me, Jimmy, press me to your heart."

And it's (?) cold were the arms that encircled around her,
And cold was the bosom she pressed to her heart.
"One fond embrace, love, and then I must leave you;
One fond embrace, and then we must part."

And then this young man he was seen for to vanish,
And into the clouds he seemed for to go,
Leaving this fair one alone and distracted,
Weeping and wailing with many a woe.

And throwing herself on the banks of the river,
And weeping as though her poor heart it would break,
"Oh my dearest, my darling, my lost Jimmy Whalen,
I will sigh 'til I die at the site of your grave."